"Gardner, Lisa - The Other Daughter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gardner Lisa)

up, yelling he's tired of the goddamn lies and he's a
goddamn homosexual and Harper had better god-|
damn deal with it. I don't think I've ever seen Dad
hold a duck leg in midair for so long. If the whole |
thing hadn't been really happening, I think it might
have been funny."
"Brian always lets things build too much," Anne Margaret stated knowingly, having followed the family saga for the past ten years. "Wasn't he seeing a therapist?"
"He stopped. I believe his lover is the therapist's brother, or something like that."
"You're kidding!" Both Ann Margaret and Jamie managed to be aghast.
"Well, at least tell me your brother is doing okay," Jamie said to Melanie.
But Melanie couldn't. "I don't know. Brian . . . Brian isn't speaking to me."


"No!" Jamie shook his head. "Stupid young fool. He and Harper have always gone head to head- they're both too damn thick, that's the problem-but the boy's crazy about you. I used to tease your parents that he mistook you for a puppy, the way he'd run around feeding you toys and feeding you chocolate. He's got no good reason to be taking out this newest tiff on you." Jamie paused, then asked carefully, "He doesn't have any reason to be mad at you, right, lass? I can't see you caring about his sexual orientation or whatever the hell they're calling it these days."
"I don't," Melanie said. "Neither does Mom. But I don't know . . . Brian's always been moody. He has his spells, kind of like Mom, his blue periods, even his angry periods. When I heard him shout that he was a homosexual, some part of my brain clicked. I thought, oh, well, that's why. And now we know, and it's all out in the open, so everything will get better.
"But it didn't get better. Something went off in him. I mean, went off, and suddenly it's like he hates us. All of us. I don't know why."
Her godfather looked troubled. "You try talking to him?"
"I left six messages, then went over in person. He wouldn't answer the door."
"That kid just tries your patience."
"He probably needs more time."
Jamie didn't look convinced. "He shouldn't need time to know to treat his mom and sister with respect. Well, what's done is done. Has Harper said anything more about it?"
"You know this isn't the kind of stuff he talks about."
"Harper needs to pull his head out of his ass," Jamie declared, one of his favorite opinions about Harper. He said it without vehemence though. The two men went back too far to be hotheaded about their differences now.
"Dad's just conservative," Melanie said. "I imagine

not too many of his aging Republican cronies have ever had to deal with sons announcing that they're gay."
"Your son is still your son."
Ann Margaret placed two fingers over the gauze pad covering the needle on his arm. "So says the man who doesn't have one."
Jamie actually flushed. "Just mind your own business, you nosy little-"
Ann Margaret yanked the needle out of his vein. He made a silent O with his lips, then, every inch a chastised schoolboy, obediently lifted his arm above his head and held it there.
"You're doing great," Ann Margaret declared merrily, and Jamie gave Melanie a long-suffering look that declared he knew he'd met his match-but he still didn't want to hear about it.
Ann Margaret moved on to Melanie next, removing the needle, applying a Band-Aid.
"I think Harper is going to give soon," Melanie confided when both she and her godfather were allowed to sit up. She moved to Jamie's stretcher, where they sat side by side. "You think?"
"I found him crying," she said quietly. "Late last week, on the sofa downstairs, when he thought no one was around."
Jamie glanced down at the floor, completely subdued. After a moment Melanie looked at him curiously.
"What do you want from him, Jamie? Dad was raised in the fifties, when men were men, women were women, and gays were freaks. I'm not saying that's right, but it's hard to undo a lifetime of thinking." "You always were a good diplomat, Mel." "It's not world politics, Jamie. It's family." They both drifted into silence, and after a while their gazes turned to the glittering crowd. Melanie picked out her father. He now stood in the left corner of the living room, sharing a laugh with his rival at Mass. General. William had arrived and waited at her father's heels. Like Harper, William Sheffield, M.D., prided himself on his perfect appearance. Tonight, though, he looked tired, worn around the edges.
Maybe trying to keep up with three women was finally taking its toll on him.
Melanie quickly pushed that thought away. Not her business anymore, not her problem.
She looked for her mother and found her at nearly the opposite corner of the room from her husband. Melanie's parents rarely kept each other company at parties, and not at all these days, with the situation with Brian causing a rift between them.
They were never the type to argue in public, however. They never even disagreed in front of their children. Discussions took place discreetly, late at night, when they thought Brian and Melanie were asleep, and a united judgment was then passed in the morning. For the most part, Melanie regarded her parents' marriage as solid, if stale. Even now she didn't worry about them. After all, they'd weathered far worse crises.
Presently Patricia set down her orange juice glass and started moving. She passed right by where Harper was standing. Melanie thought her mother would simply keep going, but her father reached out and stopped her with a touch of his hand to her bare elbow. It was hard to say who was the most surprised by the unexpected contact, Patricia or Melanie.
Harper's mood was definitely softening, for whatever he said to his wife, it made her smile. He murmured something more, his blue eyes sparkling, and she actually laughed, looking startled, looking pleased. She turned toward him fully. His long surgeon's fingers skimmed her collarbone before coming to rest on her slender waist, and she leaned toward

her husband in a way Melanie hadn't seen in a long, long time.
Jamie shifted beside Melanie, and she realized he was watching her parents as well, his expression hard to read.
"It's going to be all right," Melanie murmured with renewed confidence. "See, the worst is over."
"Your mom looks great," Jamie said softly, and behind them Ann Margaret bound their pints of blood more briskly.
"She's attending her AA meetings diligently. She's a tough one, you know." Melanie glanced at her watch, then hopped down from the stretcher. "You in town a bit?"
"Coupla weeks, love." "Tea at the Ritz?" "Wouldn't miss it for the world." "It's a date. Take good care of him, Ann Margaret. I'll catch you both a little later."
MELANIE HAD NO sooner turned down the back hall to the kitchen than she bumped into another guest. She glanced up to apologize and found herself looking at a short, balding man in rumpled streetclothes. She'd seen his overcoat earlier, she realized, heading down the hall, disappearing around the corner. "Who are you?" she asked sharply. The man grinned, but it wasn't friendly. "Larry Digger, ma'am. Dallas Daily. Unh-unh. Don't turn away from me, Miss Stokes. I've spent all night long waiting to catch you alone. Goddamn, you are one busy lady."